A Boy and His Machine Gun
by What's Their Name
Summary: No longer did he live to please others. Pleasure was his, no matter how sick and twisted the means this pleasure came from. He made her bite the rodent alive.


**Disclaimer: I do not own _The Tribe_. It and all respective characters belong to Raymond Thompson and Cloud 9 production.**

**Additional Note:** Sort of a follow up to Hanging by a Moment. A song inspired this story.

**Summary:** the aftermath.

He enjoyed this sort of thing. When he had complete control. Nothing wasn't his idea, or under his control. These moments were for him. No longer did he live to please another. Pleasure was his, no matter how sick and twisted the means this pleasure came from. He made her bite the rodent alive. Rip it's jugular from it's thick coarse hide. The blood flowed freely down her stubborn chin. This was arcadia. This was bliss.

He had spent days planning this one. Break the indestructible paramour, make what once yearned for the golden boy, yearn for him. Maybe not necessarily his body but his power.

_Bray_, spiting out the name, was the only way he could pronounce the vile thing. He knew she still wanted her Eco warrior, just like every other damn fool that laid eyes on his fellow kin. But he had made sure when she jumped for power, she was going to get a work out.

Slowly he encircled her face with his leather-clad hands. Each nail he made sure left nail marks, the white shadows turned angry red score marring the taffy cream of her skin. It was an inviting sight.

In school he had always fancied himself an artist. While his brother was an athlete, he created. Always a fan of Pollok and Rothko, chaos was alluring, sexy even. He was in control of that power, he decided how little or how much bedlam would occur. His canvas was the braided vixen, perfect complexion just ready to be deformed.

Tools of the trade were never far from his side. The art knife was becoming dull from use, he would have to remember to sharpen it after he finished with her, no matter the cutting was done. With fingers of a surgeon, he deftly replaced the knife with a gouge, a gift from his parents. Their memory never left him either. Despising them and loving them so badly all at once, left his heart feeling as if it would burst. Putting those thoughts aside, returning to his task at hand.

She moaned, rather loudly than he would have expected. _Power and Chaos_ at least that what he think he heard, all seemed to be rather slurred, he assumed it was from the rat - or her blood. If she was in a talking mood then maybe he should oblige her, he was after all a leader - not a monster.

_A job well done indeed._ He sat down across from her wiping his hands on her jacket. _She left you know_ He checked to see if his company was listening._ I don't know where, but you showed up, and 'poof' she bolted. I thought her and I had come to an agreement. I suppose she's off mooning over him as usual. Oh you know 'him' Bray, luhver as you so ardently call him._

He noted that she had raised her head, a curious look spread across her features, not understanding what he was going on about. She had come here to die, she assumed, all he did was stand there and ramble on. After everything he had just done, after everything he had made her do - he rambled. Acting as if they were out for a bloody Sunday stroll, merrily passing the time from daytime to nighttime, pillow talk with out the pillow. It made her already fuzzy thoughts swirl.

_Oh I don't imagine you feel very sorry for her. Now you have little ol' me to yourself. All that power, for you to manipulate with your female whiles. Another notch, on your proverbial belt. Survival, that's all that matters right?_

She was having trouble following his line of thought, hell she was having trouble focusing on him.

_You were with Bray, tried to seal the deal right? Was it all you imagined? Better? Come on tell your good friend. We could be bosom buddies. Friends till the end. No? Oh well._

His incoherent ramblings were driving her mad. He was unbalanced, that she was sure of. Who 'she' was that he spoke of was still an enigma she needed to solve.

_I suppose that you want me as your bedmate as well. I offer something more appealing in times like these than the popularity my brother could offer you. That is why you're here?_

She didn't know whether or not she should answer. What was she to say "Yes I came to fuck, as long as you make me your queen"?What did she expect from coming here? Acceptance? A role in life? She didn't think this one through, and was at the moment in no position to do so. All she could do was agree with this madman and hope that all would end well enough that she was alive.

_That's right, agree with me._

She passes out, it didn't matter. He had finished anyway, and left her in the cage.


End file.
